Preface to Battle
by Amelia Lynette Conner
Summary: Before Cia's final fight, Volga and an old Kokiri girl share a moment of speech. The Dragon knight, and Zant's self-proclaimed baby sitter. The sacred Dragon Volvagia, and the sole Twilight Kokiri. OC, written for self indulgence.


**_Mostly written for me. The Kokiri has a really headcanon dependant storyline behind her that I've never actually written, and probably never will. I just wanted to write her and Volga being adults :'D_**

**_If you have any questions, feel free to ask, and if you want to use the OC ever, feel free to do that too~ 'S not like I'm ever going to actually write that story pfff-_**

She didn't fit in among the 'villains', and no one really expected her to. After her strangly executed and well placed rescue of the Twili, they'd retreated to Cia's manor, just as the rest of them did when biding their time or planning. Her tiny pale body, muted red hair, and green clothes that matched with the hero painted on nearly every wall... perhaps it was because she fit in with the rose garden shrine so well that she didn't fit in at all.

Any time the Kokiri wasn't tending to Zant's sanity, one could find her either in the back, practicing her swordsmanship like the old hand she very well could be, or in the foyer, legs folded under her as she meditated between the stairs. She would sit perfectly still with her short blade across her lap, blue-green eyes closed off from the rest of the world. They did not open, even as Wizzro made a snide comment in passing, Cia stood waiting for acknowledgement in front of her, Zant settling down next to her, Volga yelling down the hall...

The only thing that could make the nameless woman child look up from where her head was bowed, would be when Volga sat across from her, helmet removed, and attempted to fall into a meditative trance to calm himself. If she could not see his face, she wouldn't even twitch in recognition of his presence, and if he was already calm, the most she would do is hum a greeting before falling silent once more.

When he was irate, the small woman would speak in her soft, high tones guiding him into the relaxing state as she had him breathe with her, put his hands in hers, and sometimes she would even be so bold as to stand, settling behind him to work out the tense muscle beneath the fire red armour of the Dragon's equipment.

She probably knew more about the Dragon than anyone else on their side of the playing field. What he looked like under the helmet was already more than what the Hero's team knew about him, but while she didn't show it, she was surprised of how little his own comrades knew. It wasn't like he was hiding anything either, they simply never cared to ask.

He was a surprisingly honorable man, and apparently just as ageless as the Kokiri appeared to be, living primarily as a Dragon would rather than a Hylian. He'd stopped caring about conventional means of doing what he liked, and his sole purpose for joining up with someone like Cia was simply to find a worthy opponent in the Spirit of the Hero; a purpose that stuck with him, even as Cia's hold over his mind broke long ago. He'd fought the previous incarnation, he told her, and it was the first time in a very long time he'd lost.

On lighter notes, things she'd figured out from his aimless speech when he came to her already in a calm, she knew some of his likes and dislikes, and what few hobbies he had. Like any Carnivore, Volga much prefered meat to anything else, though oddly, he liked horse meat of all things best. Even he himself admitted it more than a bit of an oddity. He liked Chess occasionally, though he would usually lose. He'd always wanted to weild a sword, but found his skills lay in spears and long weapons.

He was also quite handsom, or so the Kokiri raised surrounded by Twili thought so. There was a nearly permanent frown etched into his fanged mouth and thin lips, just under his slightly hooked, thin nose, and just over the slight blond beard on his chin. The upper portion of his face was blackened, but the golden green eyes surrounded by the dark red sclera glowed like gemstones in the desert sun. Unlike her expectations, he didn't have long, red-blond hair, but short, easily kept blond hair, scruffy from constantly being smothered under the heavy helmet.

He had a charm to him that the Kokiri couldn't help but smile after.

The day the Kokiri felt the final battle approaching, for Cia at the very least, the girl advised Zant not to take part in this silly little war, and along with Wizzro who made himself scarce in the previous battle, he left, leaving Cia, Volga, and her, the nameless child older than most who would be battling within the manor soon.

"Before we risk our deaths, is it too much to ask for your name?" Came the gravely, deep voice of the Dragon man, the two sitting across from each other as had become common.

The request made her smile, knowing that even if he were to lose today, Volga would simply rise from his ashes like a serpentine phoenix. However, for once, she indulged. There was no reason not to tell this man anything, not now that there were no prying ears. "I do not have one." Her young voice stated. "I have faced rebirth without renaming; I do not have a name as of the present."

"Your name before rebirth?" He asked like the subject of rebirthing was commonplace for him. Which, she assumed it was.

"Leah." The name felt odd on her tongue, but the infintismal upward twitch to the Dragon's lip made her smile ever so slightly. "But it is not my name in this life." There is a pause, and the Kokiri once called Leah could have given her right arm to know what he was thinking before he spoke again.

A strong hand grasps her shoulder as Volga stood starts walking past her, towards the keep he was supposed to stand guard over. She knew he would not stay long enough to fight; he had already lost in a fair fight to the hero, and a man like Volga was honorable enough to acknowledge his defeat and step aside. However, she wondered if she herself should bother to stay when his farewell reached her ears.

"Stay safe, Rachel; there are few who can calm a Dragon, and I'd rather not lose one."

He had named her, and she would take it with pride. Rachel, the younger, more beautiful sister to Leah, who gained her husband's love fairly, rather than the trickery of the elder.

Something foreign fluttered in her stomach and the Kokiri smiled. "I would loath to be seperated from you for so long, Volvagia." The smile he flashed her, stretched from lack of use, but all too genuine, had her turning around, striding in the opposite direction to her own keep.

She would not stay with Cia in her innevitable doom. No, she would stay by her dear Zant and protect him as long as she could, until the day she and the Dragon crossed paths again. Rachel doubted it would take long.


End file.
